Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Winter continued its unabated assault today. In the succinct words of Monty Python, bloody weather. It's been snowing for the vast majority of the day, just to make up for the stuff that melted last week. Seven more weeks of class.

And now for something completely different: I baked banana bread today. That's right, I baked it. It's a funny story, actually. When we got back into town at the beginning of the month, we had to go buy some essentials down at the IGA. We usually pick up a bunch of bananas, but for some reason, the bananas they had were so unripe that they almost glowed green. It was disconcerting, but we bought some anyway. Hey, how long can it take to ripen a banana?

Three weeks, that's how long. In that time, the bananas have been sitting in our window, patiently soaking up the sun and steadily progressing through the various stages of green. Never really hit yellow, though. Sort of skipped that part and went straight to brown. Terribly disappointing.

But I wasn't going to let those bananas go to waste, no sir. After all that work and loving care that we gave them, I wasn't about to just throw them in the garbage. The only reasonable solution was banana bread; it was for their own good. And yes, I am the only one in the house who can eat banana bread, what with its toxic flour and all, but I'll enjoy it. Or get sick of it. Probably enjoy.

That was really the highlight of what I accomplished today. I have a midterm exam tomorrow that I'm really excited about. I'm sure the level of excitement I feel now is equal to the level I'll feel when I'm 40 and I have to get my first colonoscopy. Hilarious.

I hate to go into a test feeling horribly unprepared, but that's what I'm doing this time. It's probably because it's been five years since I've actually written an exam in a classroom, so I'm a little rusty and don't know what to expect. I'm sure it'll be okay, and I'll do alright (if not, it's only 15% of my grade, so I'm not really concerned), but it's just the going in without knowing part. Hopefully I won't be singing a different tune tomorrow. At least it's in my 8:00 class so I can get it over with. There's nothing worse than waiting all day to write a test.

So then, let's get on with it: the weekly 24 synopsis...

Although the more cynical among us would be tempted to give this recap: "Blah blah blah Morris blah blah drinking blah blah blah can't do the job (98% of the show). Boom (2% of the show)" (thanks, Dad), I chose to go a bit more in-depth. It isn't particularly funny, but I'm aiming for witty and sardonic, remember, so set your expectations accordingly.

4:03 – The ambassador of where? Okay you two, let’s just all get along. We all know that your country has been attacked over a period of years by this terrorist now standing in the room, but something far more important has happened—America has been attacked! Can’t we all just agree to put the bickering aside about who killed whom and focus on the superpower in the room? Gosh.

4:04 – Ah yes, the old “We’ve got a carrier off your shores” trick. Coupled with the “People close to me are pressuring me for a military response and if we’re attacked again I won’t be able to hold them back,” it’s a good tactic. National sovereignty? Forget it. Do what we say, or we’ll send in the ordinance.

4:07 – As my dad said on the phone the other day, what do you think the chances are of Josh going fishing with dear old grandpa anytime in the near future? If this kid doesn’t grow up to play in a death metal band, well, that’ll be surprising is all.

4:08 – I’m not sure why, but I just wanted to take this opportunity to remind everyone that Jack just got out of two years in a Chinese prison about 12 hours ago. He’s performing remarkably well for a torture victim who hasn’t eaten, slept, or urinated since. Oh, to have his stamina.

4:10 – Let’s go over the highlights of that “processing.” Okay, so we’ve covered the deadly yellow highlighter risk, along with the make-sure-the-tape-deck-works risk. Nothing else to worry about, then. For all that security guard knows, he could have a knife concealed in that briefcase. But at least the highlighter’s legit.

4:22 – I was hoping that Logan wouldn’t suggest that Jack go on another raid of a foreign consulate. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, I’m a big idiot who likes to get tortured in foreign countries.

4:27 – So let me get this straight: the president has no problem in dealing with a known terrorist—even putting him on TV—but takes a moral issue with issuing President Logan a temporary furlough to meet with the Russian guy? Maybe Reid's plan wasn't a bad one, after all.

4:31 – That airplane graveyard actually does exist. You’d think it might be a bit better guarded, though, so that, say, Russian terrorists couldn't get in with UAV's and nuclear weapons.

4:43 – I can’t wait until we get to the scene where Morris is in the bathroom swigging a mickey and singing Irish drinking songs…

4:44 - …wow, he really was in the bathroom--I should write for this show. Notice how the bathroom sign is on the door backwards (it says "Men" on the inside of the door, not the outside)?

4:49 – Dnag it, the highlighter wasn't legit after all! We can't fault the security guard though; how was he to know to test the red highlighter as well? I mean, who uses a red highlighter? So close.

4:55 – What kind of episode is this that I’m actually cheering for Charles Logan and Tom Lennox? I feel dirty.

4:58 – I just hope Dr. Bashir from Star Trek:DS9 wasn’t killed in the explosion (did you even know it was him?)

5:00 - That's the thing I love and hate about this show: no matter how much the episode bores me, the ending usually keeps me wanting more.

Tune in again next week for more of the same.

With that, I conclude yet again. Back tomorrow with a recap of my test, and other goodies, I'm sure. See you then.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Had one of those moments tonight that make you feel like a total heel (one of the many for me, I'm afraid--hey, someone had to say it). I was working away diligently on the laptop out on the couch, and the computer froze. The worst part is that I forget when I last saved. So now I'm stuck in that horrible state of having a frozen computer, wondering if it's ever going to come out of its coma, while at the same time trying to recall all recent changes to my document just in case it doesn't come back. I will leave the computer on in fond hope this evening, and offer supplication to whatever patron saint of frozen computers there happens to be. Here's hoping.

The moral here? Save your work often. I always do, too; this is one of the few times when I can't remember when I last saved, and I have this terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that it was some time ago. Oh well.

In addition, can I ask an obvious question? Well, I guess that was one, but you know what I mean: when does freaking winter end in this freaking province?! Wednesday is the last day of February, heading into the lovely month of March, and yet, alas--there is no sign of winter's imminent departure. In fact, news of winter's demise was premature.

Yesterday, on the drive home from Edmonton, we got caught in a winter storm. Wind howling across the plain, hurtling at the highway with great vim and gusto, blowing billows of snow every which way, and causing the Alberta drivers to place their foot more firmly on the gas pedal in what I can only assume was a race to get home and out of the snow. Disgusting stuff. Today it got up to maybe -10, without the windchill, which kept temperatures at a balmy -17. What's worse is that it's expected to get worse again before too long. Seven more weeks of class. I'll just keep telling myself that, and hopefully it'll go faster.

Speaking of Edmonton--and here are the promised reflections of the weekend's trip--man, no matter how many times I go there, I just can't make myself like the city. I don't know why, but I just can't stand it. Nathan and Heidi live in a pretty decent neighbourhood, but it's still Edmonton. There's just something about the city that is missing some sort of essential element. It's like a poorly-done haunted house: you really want to be scared, and you give the actors credit for trying, but it just doesn't quite capture the essence of haunted housedom. Same with Edmonton--you can tell it's trying really hard, what with its many Tim Horton's locations and all, but it's just missing something. Maybe it's the inherent Edmontonian inferiority complex to its big neighbour, Calgary. In that way, it's like Vancouver to Victoria--one is clearly the more important city, but the other is the capitol (or is it "capital"?). No matter how much it tries to be like its brother, it'll never be its brother. Mind you, the five Stanley Cup banners hanging in Rexall Place lessen the sting, I'm sure.

There was one definite highlight to the weekend, though--I got to wash my car. "Ooh," you say, "Does the fun ever stop with you, Mark?" No, it really doesn't.

Anyway, the car was looking like a ratty old dog that had been left outside in the mud for a year, and I was beginning to be a little bit self-conscious about what kind of image I was projecting. But alas, this weekend I learned the fine art of the self-serve car wash.

It's a silly idea, really: pay to wash your own car. But it's surprisingly cathartic and just a little bit addictive. At home, you've got okay tools; maybe you have a nice sponge and some hot, soapy water you got from the kitchen tap (as was the case growing up and being forced to wash my parents' cars with a toothbrush or face being deprived of food for the week. Okay, I made that last part up, I confess). At the carwash, you've got a high-pressure nozzle that liberally sprays warm water on the car, and a large scrubbing brush that dispenses foam like it's going out of style. For those who want to give their car the best.

The thing is that it's a race against time. You pop a loonie into the machine, and, just like the vacuum at the gas station, you get a limited amount of time to use whatever feature you choose (and the amount of time is sorely inadqueate, at least in my opinion). I got our car done for $3, but I was racing the whole time. Nathan's car, a Volvo station wagon, took $4; when we drove in, there was a guy washing his Escalade, which must have taken quite the toll on the loonie collection. He probably didn't mind shoving a couple extra loonies into the machine, mind you, considering his ride.

I have to say, though, I'm firmly sold on the self-serve car wash concept. It's substantially cheaper than the gas station ones, and, although you don't get to experience that singularly unique feeling of sitting in a car while in a car wash, you also don't leave behind half your paint and most of your bumper because the pressure is set to "pulverize." Good deal, I have to say.

Of course, while we were in Edmonton, we had to hit the world-famous West Edmonton Mall, once the world's largest, and now just somewhere on the list. How ignominious is that? "Once the world's largest." Sounds so, I don't know, melancholic. Like the old man who sits on the porch regaling the youngsters with stories of his wild youth, which the youngsters beleive nary a word of, the WEM sits on the Edmonton landscape as a testament to its former glory. "It all started with the Mall of America, sonny, and it just went down hill from there. But in my day, I was the best mall in the world, don't you know." Sad.

Still, we gave it the ol' college try. Went in on a mission to buy some rechargeable batteries sufficiently adequate for our digital camera (which apparently consumes battery power at roughly the rate of a supermodel's cocaine consumption--apologies for the lukewarm cultural reference), and emerged with precisely nothing. All those stores, and nobody has rechargeable batteries on sale? For the love of puppies.

We did manage a good mall food court meal, though. It's funny how the fact that it's one of the biggest malls in the world certainly doesn't mean the food selection is adventurous or even heterogenous. I'm pretty sure there were three different Chinese restaurants and two Greek ones, along with the usual suspects (Arby's, Taco Bell, KFC (don't call me "fried"), Taco Time (standing a respectful distance from its larger and cooler rival), DQ, McDonalds, and the like). And among all those, do you think any of them served a simple Vietnamese salad roll (for my wife, not me)? Not a chance. In the end, it was Arby's for me, and Taco Time for the wife--they have tater tots, Taco Bell doesn't (I just realized how ridiculous that statement sounds; in a world where many go hungry, we're making food decisions based on what kind of fries the Mexican place serves). Good times.

And that pretty much concludes the Edmonton visit. Had a Sunday afternoon nap, which was very refreshing, ate pizza for dinner, had ice cream for dessert, got in the car and headed home. Through a storm.

By the way, I know you're all clamouring for the return of the 24 analysis and sardonic commentary, but I'll have to save it for tomorrow, since I am, alas, downloading the show and not watching it on my fuzzy TV (we're at 76% complete right now). Some days are good reception days; others, not so much. Today happens to be the latter, and I'm sorry, but I have to watch it in all its glory in order to fully appreciate the experience (and be able to suitably mock it). I must say, last week's plot twist at the end in bringing back Charles Logan was unexpected. Also, I didn't expect them to find out the father was the real villain until at least hour 20, so I'm glad they ended that thread quickly. It gets tiring to have some variation of the mole storyline every year.

Another moment in last week's show--no, wait, I think it was the week before--that was entirely predictable was the revelation that the guy we've thought was the bad guy all along isn't actually the main bad guy. Turns out the crazy Islamofascists were actually working for a Russian guy who wants to bring back the days of the Cold War and rewrite history so that the USSR wins. Interesting, if not entirely feasible. Something tells me that an Islamic ideologue wouldn't care to be the lap dog of a grizzled Soviet general, but that's just me. I guess I just don't understand Islamic fundamentalists like I thought I did.

Hey, I managed to work in some witty commentary right there. All is not lost. Consider it a little teaser for what's going to come tomorrow when I get this puppy watched.

With that, another posting is wrapped up and in the bag. Thanks again for coming by, and I'll see you tomorrow.

Monday, February 26, 2007

Had a rather lovely weekend. Just got back from a couple of days in Edmonton, visiting with my cousin Nathan and his wife, Heidi, and their new baby boy, Gideon. It was a bit of a spur-of-the-moment thing; we were tossing the idea around last week, and then happened to get a call from Heidi on Friday--she was in Red Deer for the afternoon, and wanted to know if Steph could come have coffee with her--and we got to talking, one thing led to another, and there you go. Good times were had by all, including Theo, who was a wonderful gentleman the whole time.

We happened to time it up for the big February birthday celebration weekend. Well, okay, it's really just that Nathan and Heidi's birthdays are both in February, and so they combine the dinners (sort of like what our families do for Steph and I--and I have to say, even though our birthdays are in different months, we're closer together, so that makes us cooler). Good times; got over to Uncle Bob and Aunt Audrey's, and my cousin Joel was in town to (with his new girlfriend, no less), so it was good times. A rousing game of Cranium was had. By the way, if you ever want to just play a game, please don't play one at a Carroll family get-together. We're just way too competitive. We even were competitive over who got to read the card to the other team. Ridiculous, really, but hey, that's us.

Interestingly, Nathan just finished recording an album of country-western music (not "new" country or "alt-country," but real cowboy-at-the-back-fence kind of music, that I actually quite enjoyed), and we got to hear the fully mastered version along with him for the first time. Pretty good work. Some of his pre-mastered stuff is here if you want to check it out. He's throwing a CD release party in March, so I might head back up to Edmonton for that.

There was going to be substantially more to this posting, but I just realized that it's close to 11:30, and I just don't have the chutzpah to go much farther. Besides, I anticipate tomorrow being pretty uneventful, so I have to save something, right? Fuller report tomorrow, then, and a hearty goodnight for now. See you tomorrow.

Friday, February 23, 2007

I'm finally getting a chance to catch up on all the 24 I've missed over the past few weeks. It's about time is all I can say. Yes, great pun, I know. Get it? It's about time, as in the show is called "24" and is based on time, and yet the same phrase implies that it's been a long time since I last watched it. Ooh, I'm so clever.

Anyway. All the usual things are still happening in the most dysfunctional office in America (and now you can add the most dysfunctional government administration in history). Resignation letters flying left and right, a new plot to bring down the president, and a patriotic speech about the importance of the rule of law. Oh, and then there's Chloe's boyfriend (whose last name is also O'Brian--how does that work? I thought they were just an item, not a husband-wife team, although I could be forgetting some major point of plotline here--someone should clear this up for me in the comments, thank you) programming a trigger for a nuclear device, complete with an amazing torture scene the likes of which I've never seen. Hey, we all knew it was going to be Morris in one way or another, right? Good car chases, too. And who can forget the farmer from Babe killing Piglet McBluetooth in cold blood. Gotta say, I saw that one coming, although I was surprised when they turned James Cromwell's character bad. Doesn't suit him, for some reason. I think I'll just always see him in his Babe role.

I'm only halfway through last week's two-part episode, with the second half and this past Monday's episode to watch. Eventually I'll get caught up, and then I'll bring back the witty and incisive commentary on the episodes.

Moving on. Here's the story I was going to comment on yesterday. I'll recap for those too lazy to click the link. A mother in Calgary left her six-year-old son and one-year-old daughter in the car when she went inside the building she worked in to drop off some files. Through a truly bizzare series of events (read the story--it's the strangest tale I've heard in some time, and all the more tragic because it's true), the daughter managed to get herself caught in the power window by the neck while her brother (who unstrapped her from her car seat) slept beside her. In another tragic series of events, the girl's mom came back and had no idea what had happened until it was too late. The girl died a day short of her second birthday.

So terribly sad. I can't even find words to say how sad the story is. It serves as an excellent reminder of why we always bring our kids with us instead of leaving them in the car, no matter how minor the errand we're running is. Never mind the inherent danger in leaving two kids confined in a car with all the sick people out there who would steal a car full of kids for fun, there's a reason why kids need to be supervised--they can't perceive danger.

What makes this story worse is that I know I've come close to doing the same thing myself. There have been several times when I've had Theo in the car with me and had to run an errand, and I've thought to myself, "I'm only going to be a minute; I can just leave him in his car seat--he'll be fine." Yes, he probably will be fine. But what if?

It's just not worth saving the extra few minutes. What have we come to as a society when the extra time it takes to unstrap our kids and strap them back in again has become an annoyance, a hinderance to getting things accomplished? Is it all worth it, really? No. This story reminds me that I need to take time to slow down and enjoy my son, even when he seems like "baggage." It sounds terrible to say that, but all of you who are parents know the feeling I'm describing.

My heart goes out to this mother and the family of the child, as well as the passersby who tried to help. I hope you'll join me in praying for them--I think they could use it right about now.

What a sad, macabre way to end the posting and the week. I can't end on that note, so without appropriate segue...

...Things finally get back to normal at school tomorrow. Missions conference is over (Floyd again this morning, saying something I agreed with a little bit more, but not all the way), the booths are gone--everyone's up in Edmonton for Missions Fest--and classes resume tomorrow. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad to get back to it. It's probably just because I'm so close to finishing that I just want to get it done, already. Every day I'm not in class makes me anxious to get back in class and finish. But patience is a virtue (that I rarely exhibit). I just checked the schedule--turns out I'm already almost halfway through the semester. Doesn't feel like it, that's for sure. I'll bet it's going to end so abruptly it'll feel like hitting a brick wall at some velocity, but that's what happens.

Managed to finish the first draft of an essay that's due in just over a week, so I'm happy about that. I've got a midterm exam next Wednesday, which is really strange, considering I haven't written a single exam the whole time I've been here. I don't even remember how to study for them (not that I was ever much good at studying for or taking exams). But that's okay--the prof gave us a crib sheet of what will be on the test. Unfortunately I can't take it in with me.

I'm listening to an interesting lecture on my walks to and from school that will tie into my in-class presentation in my Issues in Contemporary Theology class (the one I studied feminist theology in). Interesting stuff about the conservative/postconservative evangelical divide. I find myself agreeing with much the speaker says, and I hope I can condense a bit of it here, if you'll have it.

The article I'm presenting and critiquing is a definition of evangelicalism, and also a defense of the traditional definition in light of the postconservative movement. Many in the conservative camp feel that postconservatives are too liberal for their liking, because they entertain ideas like open theism (the belief that God doesn't necessarily know exactly how the future is going to turn out). But postconservatives would respond that conservative evangelicalism is too quick to draw lines in the sand and exclude people from its fellowship because they disagree. The speaker brought up a good point about postconservative evangelicalism being a generous orthodoxy, one that allows differing viewpoints to coexist. Even though two opposing viewpoints cannot possibly be right (despite what postmodernism would have us beleive), both are welcome because both can be intelligently reasoned. Conservative evangelicalism would say that one is correct, and in order to be a part of this movement, one has to agree with the party line.

I think that kind of thinking is what bugs me about a lot of the silly quibbles we have within our denominations regarding peripheral things. To me, there are a few deal-breakers in faith: the Trinity; the Bible as the authoritative and infallible Word of God; the virgin birth; the sinlessness of Christ; the dual nature of Christ; the substitutionary atoning death of Christ; the present work of the Holy Spirit; the bodily return of Jesus; there may be a couple others, but you get the point. To me, things like what role women have in ministry are just not worth arguing about. Strong cases can be made from Scripture for both sides of the debate, and I'm sure all of Christendom will never agree on this side of eternity.

But isn't there enough room for everyone? The MB Herald, a publication I receive as a member of an MB church, took this debate on a while back. The letters they got were horrendous. People all over the conference hurling accusations of heresy at each other, and general bad feelings all around. In the Fellowship, there was once (and there may still be) a movement afoot to have all churches who would dare call a woman a pastor kicked out of the denomination. Why? Can't we agree to disagree and still live in Christian unity with each other? Isn't the kingdom of heaven big enough for all of us?

And that's just the problem with conservative evangelicalism as it now exists--it is not willing to bend or waver from its inherited tradition, no matter what happens. And you know what? When the world looks at this stuff, they don't gain any respect for the church. Please don't misunderstand: I'm not advocating that we conform church to the world's standards. But is it too much to ask to not be so archaic about our standpoints on things that are grey areas of Scripture? I think it's not.

Right. That's a bit of a nicer way to end--I hope you stayed with me through all of it. And so ends another week here in Three Hills, at least for you blog-consumers. Remember, no posting tomorrow night, but I'll have one up here Sunday night for your reading pleasure first thing Monday morning. Have a wonderful weekend, and I'll see you back here Monday.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

We all knew that winter had to come back again. Last night as I was blogging, the snow was coming down hard, leaving a nice fresh new dusting this morning. And now, they say there's a winter storm on the way for tomorrow afternoon and into Friday. The respite was good while it lasted, but winter hath no end, I'm afraid.

Surprisingly, not much to report today. Went off to missions conference again, where Floyd said something else I didn't really agree with, but I'm sure you're tired of the long-winded postings this week, so I'll spare you. Got a chance to look at a bunch of other exhibits, too. What struck me was that all the mission organizations tend to sound a lot alike, just with different names. All had fancy signage, all had handouts, all had resources, and all had need for workers. Some organizations put a lot of money into recruiting, while others have small posters that look handmade.

The hardest part about it is that they all do something really valuable and all have their particular niche. In a lot of ways, I think it would be really great if we could just pool all the resources going into missions together and stop duplicating a lot of the work being done. Not that there are two or three missionaries competing for the same lost tribe, but that there's probably a lot of redundancy back at home with offices, staff, resources, and the like. All I'm saying is that it might be less of a logistical problem if we realized we were on the same team and worked together instead of competing for the same smallish pool of workers.

It seems to be the M.O. of Christians to spend more time proving something to each other than actually doing the work of the Gospel. We posture and push within our denominations over small points of doctrinal interpretation (of which I am guilty, especially in the area of women in ministry leadership), we spend countless scholarly hours on writing books that support our particular take on baptism over and against the practices of another denomination, and we quibble and fight within our congregations over really silly things like the way the letters on a sign are leaning (I have experience with that one--I only wish I'd made it up). What if we took that energy and focussed it elsewhere? How much more and better work could we be doing if we looked outside instead of in?

I know, the solution isn't simple, is it? It's at the very least more complicated than I've presented it. *Sigh.* But what if? While I've been here, I've had time to think about the what if, and it's exciting. I really hope that I never lose that sense of expectation over what could happen, because too often I allow myself to get caught up in the intricate details of minor problems and forget that there's a whole world that needs to hear the message I bear. Am I going out there and proclaiming it? Not remotely. There has to be more than this.

Well, that section turned out to be a little more self-reflective and melancholic than I imagined. Oh well. I had some incisive social commentary to share based on a particularly disturbing news story happening in these parts, but I'll leave that for tomorrow.

Right now, I'm going to break this week's trend of epic posts and hit the hay. Thanks for stopping by yet again. See you tomorrow.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

I know, I know: the title's boring. But you're just going to have to accept it, I'm afraid. And, thanks to the miracle of modern technology, I'm typing this in the future. I figure that since most of you will read this tomorrow, I might as well date it tomorrow. Keep in mind, however, that I am typing it the night before, so my references to "today" mean Tuesday, not Wednesday. I think it's pretty self-explanitory, though. The date is really for ease of navigation, and for me knowing what posting a comment got attached to when I get an email notice of a posted comment (which happens a little too rarely, I might say). On with it, then.

It's missions conference this week at school, which means that the class load is quite low for me. Classes are cancelled on Wednesday (hooray!), and several people will be away at Edmonton Missions Fest on Friday, so I'm not sure there'll be much substance to those courses (in fact, one of them is cancelled, too).

It also means that our chapel sessions are longer to accommodate a guest speaker and community involvement. This year's speaker is Floyd McClung, who leads a ministry called All Nations. He spoke at this morning's chapel, and it was one of those things where I'm sure I would've gotten more out of the talk had I agreed with his fundamental premise, which seemed to be that you can't be a true Christ follower unless you go out into the mission field.

I've heard that one before, and I've never really agreed with it. His thing is that being like Christ means being willing to give up everything you have to serve others in rotten conditions, just as He gave up His place in heaven to serve men on earth. My objection is this: why is foreign missions the only way to live a life of sacrifice?

For example, I'm a guy who's more than likely to go into a ministry career. In order to do this, I've had to sacrifice my ability to earn a nice paycheque at a secular job to commit to full-time ministry work. The work is hard and draining, and the pay is bad, but it's my calling, and I have to do it. That, to me, constitutes sacrifice.

Or what about the person who isn't a full-time minister (I don't want to be as guilty as Floyd is of narrowing the definition of sacrifice too much), but who diligently gives of their time and financial resources to support the work of Christ through His Church? After all, Jesus didn't commend the widow for her faith because she volunteered to go out into the mission field; He commended her because she gave up all she had--two coins--to the temple treasury. That was her sacrifice. Many people have been serving the Lord faithfully for decades, sacrificing things they would, I'm sure, rather be doing (like, say, a hobby) to support that work. Is that not a sacrifice, too?

And what about the fact that there's equally as much spiritual need here as there is in many developing nations. Yes, we have all the acoutrements of modern life, and yet we're lacking that moral core that allows us to function well as a society. Don't believe me? Just read the newspaper. What if my calling is to help young people in Langley become more Christ-like so that their generation makes a difference in the immorality that runs rampant in North America? Does someone from another country have to come here to meet our needs while I go to another country to meet their needs?

The other issue I had was with calling. Floyd told us that he's never been called by God to go anywhere, he just goes. God will never get upset with us for volunteering our services and just going without waiting to be asked. That, at least, is his premise.

Okay, sure, that's fine. But doesn't that take the authority for decision-making out of God's hands and put it squarely in ours? Don't we become the compass by which we navigate? If I decide I want to go somewhere and I go there, whether I feel God calling me there or not, doesn't that mean I'm putting myself and my priorities ahead of God?

He's even a little bit contradictory about this. For example, he and his family lived in the heart of Amsterdam's red light district for years, but they're now living in Capetown, South Africa. In both instances, they moved because they wanted to make a difference in those places. So, would they say they felt called? No? How so? And what's the difference between a call from God and an internal desire to make this difference for God. If the desire truly is to work for God, didn't God put it there? And if God didn't put it there, who did? Us, that's who.

Don't get me wrong: I heartily admire people like Floyd who pack up and live in dangerous situations because they really want to make that difference. Just don't make me feel like I'm less spiritual or less Christ-like because I feel that my calling is to make a difference in my own country as a pastor. Trust me, there's suffering here, too.

Moving on. Other than chapel this morning, the day was relatively free of obligations (besides those near-future due dates that are looming on the horizon--I can't see their shadows yet, though, so I'm unstressed about them). To celebrate, we all went over to Drumheller and the Royal Tyrell Museum of Paleontology. It was interesting to go after this weekend's conference and point out all the inconsistencies, but I won't get into that (a collective sigh of relief goes up from the audience).

If you can suspend your worldview for a moment and perhaps see the exhibits through differently coloured glasses, the museum is amazing. For example, instead of choosing to believe that all the exhibits were some cosmic accident, I saw the amazing variety and handiwork of God's creation. Incredible. They've done a really good job of making it interactive and informative, too, and it was well worth the $10 admission (although I think that's an off-season rate). We spent about two hours there, which seemed to be just the right amount of time. It was a nice way to spend an afternoon.

Got home, made some dinner, bathtime, some homework (I'm a little TV saturated this week), and now this, before I go wander down the hallway to the bedroom, where I'm sure I'll sleep awkwardly again and wake up with a crink in my neck. Seems to happen every night. Even though the matress we sleep on is approved by the Canadian Chiropractic Society. Ooh. Just because it's got some official seal on it doesn't mean that it'll last 30 years, that's all I'm saying.

On a side note, I'm finding school very interesting and challenging this semester. Why, just this evening I was working on three different things: critique of three sermons on Ezekiel 37 (the dry bones passage), a presentation and critique of a book about the meta-church movement and how to make your church one, and a presentation and critique of a conservative evangelical definition of evangelicalism, over and against the postconservative definition of the same. Very interesting stuff. Well, for me, at least. That last one is especially challenging; I've been waiting a very long time to be able to engage material like this at this level, so I'm totally psyched. The problem is that it's only supposed to be a 30-minute class presentation, and I have five pages of single-spaced notes, and I'm only about 2/3 of the way through. Hmm. The good thing is that I have to write a term paper afterward, so maybe what I gloss over in my presentation I'll hit wiht more gusto in my paper, where I have room to do so. Or I'll just keep talking until the prof gets up there and pulls me away from the lectern forcibly. One of the two.

Okey-dokey, then, I guess that's it for the evening. More controversy, I suppose, but that's what I'm about, really. Glad to be providing you with something to think on, at the very least. Thanks for stopping by, and I'll see you again tomorrow.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Family Day came and went, I spent time with my family. What a compliant Albertan I am. I just hope the next statutory holiday isn't something like "Pit Bull Day."

On that topic (not Family Day, but being Albertan), I got a call yesterday from Ipsos Reid wanting to do a survey. Worst...survey...ever. Generally, I'm the kind of strange person who actually enjoys taking part in phone surveys. Who doesn't want to be a part of the 63% of Canadians who think such-and-such? It's a feeling of power, I tell you--power. *Ahem.*

That said, this survey was awful. First off, I wasn't really in the mood to take one, but, being the nice guy that I am, I didn't want to just hang up the phone on the poor guy outright (note to self: hang up the phone outright next time, regardless of the hit to the telemarketer's self-esteem--hey, if he has issues, telemarketing probably isn't the profession for him, and if I can play a role in his voyage of self-discovery, then so be it). What to do? Look for an opening, that's what. I had mine within the initial ramble (which was barely comprehensible thanks to this guy's accent and inability to read from his sheet properly--it was ugly, let me tell you). The line was, "We're taking a survey to discover the opinions of Albertans on various matters."

"Ah ha," thought I, and quickly replied with, "Well, actually, I'm not really an Albertan, I'm just transplanted temporarily, so I'm not sure I'd be of much help."

His response? "Yes sir, I understand, but we're taking a survey to discover the opinions of Albertans on various matters."

Uh, wait a minute--didn't we just go over this? I felt like Bill Murray waking up to the same radio show, except it just happened seconds before. I was stunned, and while I was busy considering the ramifications of being caught in some kind of alternate universe wrinkle in the space-time continuum, he moved right on. Opportunity lost.

What was the survey about? Glad you asked. It was wide-ranging, actually, and you could tell it had been commissioned by some right-wing group based on the nature of the questions. The first topic: Telus' plan to offer downloadable "adult content" to their internet-enabled cell phones. Just what I need to see when I'm sitting on a bus or standing in line, right? Anyway, the question he asked me was, "Why do you think this is a bad idea?" Uh, you know, if you want the sort of unbiased answers that actually matter, it's probably best not to lead the respondant.

Next topic: liquor. Apparently there's talk in Alberta of allowing grocery stores to sell liquor within the store (currently, they can sell liquor in a separate store on their property; thus every larger grocery store has a liquor store across the parking lot). Somehow I'm not surprised about that, but I digress. The question: "On a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you think selling liquor in grocery stores will lead to increased social problems like underage drinking and family violence?" I wanted to launch into something like, "That's a difficult question to answer, given the confluence of factors that contribute to social ills such as the ones you've just mentioned. I think it's difficult to isolate any one factor as being the cause of such things, and, although I'm sure the wider availability of things like liquor will increase the opportunity for those problems to crop up, what we need in society is to control the external factors that motivate people to drink when they're underage or beat up their wife when they have one too many." I knew, however, that a response like that would draw a scripted response from this particular guy (if he could even understand what I was saying), so I gave him a seven, which is probably what the sponsor of the survey wanted to hear. Hey, I've got no problem playing into predetermined stereotypes. Bring it on.

The last category was way out in left field: "How do you feel about the amount of information on your electricity bill?" No kidding. The first question, of course, is to weed out those who don't see the bill: "Do you receive an electricity bill at your place of residence which you are responsible for paying?" Well, yes, I do, but it's not your standard electricity bill because it's issued by my school as part of what I pay for my pad rental.

At this point, the interview started to sound something like a Seinfeld episode. He asked me to tell him how often I looked at various parts of the bill, such as amount due (uh, always), due date (yup, always again) and such things. One of the things was the graph showing this month's usage compared to last month's. Unfortunately, the bill I receive doesn't have that information. So I told him that. Nothing. He repeated the question. I clarified: "My bill doesn't have that information on it, so the question probably doesn't apply to me. He asked, "So, would that be never?"

"Well, no, it's not 'never' because I always look at that portion if I have it, it's just that I don't have it. If I did, I'd be happy to look at it, but I don't, so I can't. If you enter my answer as 'never' it falsely represents my actual habits, which, as far as I knew, was the whole point of your survey!"

Actually, what I said was, "Sure." Pearls before swine, and all that.

I've learned my lesson from this whole experience: don't answer the phone.

I know I gave it a thorough treatment yesterday, but I just can't resist one more thing from the weekend conference, then I'll leave it alone. In fact, it's one of those really important things that I'd never thought of before, but makes all sorts of sense.

Here it is: many Christians think that they can allow for an old earth because what if the "days" in Genesis 1 don't mean literal days? We've been so indoctrinated that we've actually conformed our views of Scripture to the "evidence" presented by the scientific community, and we're okay with it. Well, I mentioned yesterday that there's a compelling grammatical reason in the Hebrew; that's not my point tonight. My point is something much more subtle. It is literally quite impossible to allow for the "millions of years" thing if you believe in the Bible.

Why? Good question. In Genesis 3, man falls into sin--we all know that story. Part of the resulting curse is death--spiritual and physical. Adam was immortal before sin because there was no death on earth. Even among animals. I don't have my Bible with me, so you're going to have to look up the references, but in Genesis 1, God tells Adam that He has given him every green plant for food--this applied to the animals as well. In fact, the first death of any living creature recorded in the Bible is when God makes coverings of hide for Adam and Eve. Okay, the Bible doesn't say that the animal died, but how else do you get hide, right?

Here's the thing: death did not exist until sin, period. Romans 5 says that death entered the world through one man, Adam. What we don't consider is that this applies to animals and humans equally. Thus, there was no carnivorous activity before the fall. With me so far?

The fall into sin corrupted everything, and now creation is groaning for its restoration as in childbirth. When Adam fell, animals who once peacefully coexisted suddenly became enemies and hunted each other. They killed because sin corrupted them.

Does this all sound too weird? Am I reading a lot into the text that's not there. Not really. Death did not exist until the fall (to reiterate that point, because it's major). We can't assume that only human death didn't exist--it was an unknown entity to all.

It comes down to this: if we believe that millions of years passed between the creation of dinosaurs and the creation of man, what we have is man being created into a world that already had death. If we believe that the dinosaur fossil record predates man, the fall really didn't mean anything at all because death was already a part of the world. It would mean that God created the world as a brutal place bathed in blood and death. And that's just not true. God created paradise (and will one day restore that paradise, where the lion will lie down with the lamb, etc); man corrupted it.

If we believe that man entered a world that was rampant with death already, what's the big deal about the fall? I mean, if man was just going to die or get eaten by dinosaurs, who cares if you eat the fruit, right? And if the fall didn't introduce death into the world, then what's the point of the second Adam who broke the power and hold of death on earth? He wouldn't be needed. And so the whole basis of the Christian faith crumbles because the foundation is destroyed.

Before this weekend, I didn't know what to think about creation. Now I know that--and this is a strong statement, so I'm sorry if you take offence--young earth creationism is the only tenable position for a Christian to hold in light of all the other theological considerations wrapped up in it. If you disagree, why? Let me know via comments.

Okay, I'm really going to leave that alone. No wait, I can't promise that: we're going to Drumheller to the Royal Tyrell museum tomorrow, the home of evolutionist indoctrination. Oh well, should be a nice counterpoint to the weekend. And hey, if I've learned anything, it's to think critically about the claims made by evolution scientists, so I'm ready to not just accept things face value. And that's never bad.

Full report tomorrow. For now, it's bedtime. See you soon.

Monday, February 19, 2007

There's a funny holiday happening tomorrow here in Alberta: Family Day. It's a statutory holiday, don't you know, but only in Alberta and Saskatchewan (this is their first year celebrating it). Although the day has a dubious history, it's an interesting idea. And with that reference, I have officially become a "cool" blogger--I've referenced Wikipedia. Power to the people, and all that!

Radio stations around here are encouraging people to go and spend time with their families tomorrow. Kind of ironic, considering most people think "spending time with the family" means going to a public attraction, like a zoo or some such thing, or perhaps dining in a restaurant for dinner. Here's the thing--all those people have families too, don't they? So what you're really saying is that Family Day is a day you should take off to spend with your families, but only if you're in an office job. Oh, and don't get sick, because all the nurses are taking time off to be with their families, too.

Maybe my experiences in the service industry have made me naturally suspicious toward statutory holidays as relaxing. They were quite the opposite for me working at the airport. In fact, we all dreaded holidays because it meant more travellers, more work, and more stress.

Here I go, getting all cynical again. Okay, let's turn over a new leaf, shall we? How was your weekend? Mine was quite pleasant, thanks for asking. As I mentioned in my last posting, I attended a conference this weekend called "Genesis Unleashed" (pretty cool title, too), which was all about the creation/evolution debate and the response to it. And you know what? It was quite possibly the best conference I've ever been to. By the way, I have not proofread this part, so if it comes across a little rough, sorry.

I've long struggled with the whole creation/evolution debate (*gasp*). It's true. But I think that all of us, at one time of another, have been confronted with some kind of scientific "data" (the quotes are intentional) and had an inkling of doubt about the veracity of the biblical record. I remember talking about dinosaurs in youth group, and the best we could come up with in the face of all the irrefutable "evidence" was that dinosaur bones were a red herring, put there by God to test our faith. What a crappy answer that is. And it's not exactly something you can take to the schoolyard and get away with, nor can you enter the classroom with it.

To be honest, I thought that this conference would be all about giving good faith reasons to believe in young earth theory and all that despite the scientific evidence. What I learned, however, was that the more we learn about the earth, the more we learn that evolution is dead wrong. In fact, in the face of the actual facts, many an evolutionist has been forced to rethink their stance on where they're coming from. Science is not biased, it is godless. One of the quotes they had this weekend was from an evolutionist who said (and I'm paraphrasing, although I'll use quotes), "I choose not to believe in God, therefore I have to choose to believe in something that I know is scientifically impossible: evolution." Wow. Even the evolutionists agree that the ice they skate on is getting thin.

Just some of the evidence: carbon-14 dating has long been the gold standard by which to measure the age of various things, because it was thought that the half-life of the carbon atom was consistent across all conditions, and would give an accurate reading of the age of things. Thus, science has been coming up with all sorts of dates to prove that the earth was formed several billion years ago. Here's the skinny, though: carbon dating has been proven to be a big sham in the scientific community. Another evolutionist said, "It was once thought that half-lives were consistent no matter the conditions. We know now that isn't true anymore." Wow. The most stunning thing about this is that in 2005, geologists ascended Mt. St. Helens in Washington to carbon date the lava dome on top. They came back with the age being anywhere from 380000 to 2.8 million years (nice margin of error, by the way). The thing is that the lava dome is only 25 years old--it was created in the eruption in 1980. So if you can't even get the right date of things that we know the age of, what makes you think you're right with everything else?

Here's another one: we were always taught in school that fossils take millions of years to form, right? The explanation would be something like, "When the fish died, it sank to the bottom of the lake, where it was gradually covered in silt, and, over millions of years, the bones eventually hardened into fossils that we see today." Couple problems, though: (a) when was the last time you saw a dead fish sink? (b) Even if it did sink, when was the last time you saw a food source respectfully ignored by animals? Do crows just leave road kill on the side of the road to fossilize? Then why do we think that fish would? (c) Have you ever seen one of those underwater explorer shows? When they look at the ocean floor, how many dead fish do you see at various levels of covering waiting to be fossilized? (d) This is the best one: if fossilization happened over millions of years, how come we have fossils of fish in the process of giving birth? Man, that's one long labour!

Evolutionists say that you have to check your brain at the door in order to be a Christian. But I have to ask, doesn't it take more faith to believe that the process takes millions of years in light of what we know through observation in life?

Here's the kicker: it's been proven that fossils can be made in as little as a few hours. That's right: a few hours. In fact, one of the presenters had an exhibition of things that he had fossilized: a children's sweater, a coil of rope, paper roses, teddy bears. All of these took under two weeks to completely fossilize at a certain spring in the Czech Republic. Further, in England, there are several places where people used to bring all kinds of personal items to be fossilized, including Agatha Christie's purse, which is hanging at one of these springs.

So we know that fossils can be created in a matter of hours, days, and weeks, but we've never seen anything fossilize over a longer period of time. Which of these things sounds like science?

One more piece of evidence because, well, it's all just so irresistable. A couple years ago, scientists digging up dinosaur bones discovered blood vessels and capillaries inside the bones. These cappilaries were so supple that, when they were removed, they could be stretched out and snap back into shape. Even the person in charge of the dig, in an interview with MSNBC (which we saw) admitted that there is no way that these vessels could still be there after 68 million years (the alleged age of that particular bone). In fact, she basically stated that there was nothing in science that allowed for this, and so they'd have to rewrite there science to compensate. So if science is getting constantly rewritten and the Bible has always stayed the same (and seems to be more true), which one is right?

The bottom line of the conference was this: you can't allow the foundation of the Bible, Genesis, to become eroded in your mind. Once we start to doubt the literal nature of the Genesis account (don't make me get into the Hebrew argument as to why the "days" of Genesis 1 must be literal days), we usurp God as our authority and put ourselves there instead. Once we do that, well, I guess we'll have what we've got now: amorality. Besides, if we think that Adam and Eve weren't necessarily real people (which is a natural progression if we start to doubt the creation narrative), then what's the point of Christ being the second Adam (Romans 5)? In fact, what's the point of Christ at all if man hasn't really fallen like the Bible says? Without Genesis, the rest of our faith falls apart, but we don't realize that. So we compromise what we believe to fit with the "scientific" evidence, when what's really suspect here isn't the veracity of the Word of God, but the claims of science itself to be objective. It isn't.

I could get into so much more (DNA, cell structure, flood evidence, etc), but who has three hours to type it? And who has more time to read it? Seriously, I'm trying to keep this short-ish. So much for that, eh?

Moving on. Went to a new church this morning, and almost walked out halfway through the sermon. Poor, poor exegesis--possibly the poorest I've ever heard. You don't want me to get into it, trust me, but it was bad. Fortunately, it wasn't the regular pastor, so we might actually go back again just to redeem the experience. Maybe.

Anyway, what I wanted to say was that we went to the 8:30 service. Man, does that ever mess with your internal clock. We were done at 9:35, which is about when we'd be getting ready to leave for another service. It was strange to get home and it still be "breakfast time." I'm so accustomed to church taking up most of the morning that I didn't know what to do with myself for the rest of the day. And there's not even any football on now! Oh well, guess I'll spend time with my wife and son or something like that. Sheesh.

Had some playtime, went for a walk (it was 7 degrees today in the sunshine--and the incessant drip of snow melting almost drove me to the point of insanity), then came back and had a family nap in the afternoon. Bliss. After that, went over to some friends' for dinner and a show (the show was when Theo tried to interact with their cat--hilarious), and now I'm here. And it's late. And I've rambled.

Sorry about the length tonight--if you're still with me, I applaud you. Thanks for coming by, and I'll be back here tomorrow. Hope to see you, too.

Friday, February 16, 2007

Warm today, just as predicted. Nice enough, in fact, to take the boy for a walk to a weekly playgroup that happens on Thursdays. It was a nice break for Steph to be able to walk outside and take Theo, and it was good for them to get out of the house and interact with their fellow humans. It's pretty tough to do that when your primary concern is how many layers you have to wear to prevent frostbite (quite literally).

The heat--if I can call hitting the freezing mark "heat"--made for some other interesting conditions, too. The snow, for example, takes on that strange, sponge-like quality that so characterizes snow on the west coast. Usually, I'm okay wearing canvas shoes into the snow, because I know that it won't melt; today, my feet got wet walking to the shed and back. I'm definitely not used to this.

Another benefit--all the mud-cicles on our car fell off. When you drive on streets that have been repeatedly sanded--I'm not sure why they call that junk "sand," but I digress--and it's freezing, all the snow that your tires kick up freezes to the undercarriage of your car, until it looks like you've got a pretty sweet side panel on it. Hey, instant lowrider, right? Anyway, the longer it's cold, the more of this disgusting snow-mud mixture sticks to your car. We had quite the collection of it, but it's now on our driveway. In fact, when I drove out this morning, I took some of it with me, and left a trail of muddy snow from our driveway to the corner.

Other than the weather, not much to report. I'm not sure why, but today felt like a day where I was really just waiting for the day to start, and now it's over. It's funny how that happens. Somewhere in there, I managed to have a meeting, send a bunch of emails, do some homework, eat three squares, bathe the child, and put him to bed, so I suppose the day was a success. But it's just weird.

One administrative thing that I have to note is a slight change in the format of this here blog. I figure that most of you who read this do so on the weekdays, and so you probably don't see my Friday posting until Monday, at which point it is hopelessly irrelevant (boy, that's giving myself some credit, eh?). So I've decided that Thursday night's posting--which you'll most likely read on Friday anyway--will be the final one for the week, and I'll post on Sunday night so that you have a fresh entry on Monday. Capisce? Good.

There's a reason behind that. This weekend is the first ever "Creation Conference" here in Three Hills. It's put on by Creation Ministry International--who have a pretty slick website. The conference will, as the title implies, address issues related to creation/evolution, but in a way that isn't just young-earth theory "because that's what the Bible says." I've never really studied this aspect of theology as much as I've wanted to, and it really piques my interest. Besides, I have a 1/2 credit hole in my grad checklist, and I can use this conference to fill it (as long as I write a paper, which means I have to pay attention).

On a side note, I did wonder what would happen if I was 1/2 a credit short on grad day. Would they still let me graduate? Probably, I would hope, because, well, 1/2 a credit is really a stupid reason to hold me back. However, in the spirit of not taking any chances that I won't be able to leave this town in May, I decided not to risk it. Good choice, too, if you ask me.

Anyway, the conference runs tomorrow night and all day Saturday, so by the time I get home tomorrow--after a full day at school as well, including a presentation--I'll probably be way too bagged to get anything up here. So there you go--it's a good solution.

So with that, have a super weekend. I'll see you back here on Monday with a lovely weekend recap, including telling you all about how dinosaurs fit into the Bible. See you then.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

How about a show of hands: who here thinks Valentine's Day is silly? I know I'm not alone in this assessment. That said, I think, in my vast wisdom, that it's probably not wise to spend too much time in front of the computer and not with my wife, so I'll be brief.

I was going to launch into a polemic against the Valentine's Day thing, how it's a manufactured holiday (and a rip-off at that--$30 for a dozen roses?!), how it forces artifical gestures of affection, and how it's totally depressing to those who aren't in relationships, but I think that's inappropriate. Besides, we all know those things are true, and yet we keep buying into it anyway. Oh well. I guess you just have to capture that spirit and not be such a poor sport about it like I am.

An update to the furnace saga of last night. Turns out my jubilation over the repair was short-lived--the pilot went out again after I published the post. Fortunately, I knew that the gas line had been choked off (for some strange, unknown reason), so I re-lit the pilot and pulled the choke back a little, and it seemed to do the trick. If I was paying for the new thermocouple and the repair job, I'd be mad, but I'm not, so I don't care. It needed the new part anyway.

By the way, I tried to find a picture, or at least a reference, to our furnace on the web, just to show you all what I'm dealing with, but, alas, I couldn't find anything on this vast world-wide web about it at all, besides a website all about the repair and maintenance of mobile homes. I know, the furnace was built with the house in 1973, so it's unlikely that I could have found a reference, but come on, it's the internet! In case you were wondering, it's a Coleman 8680-756, which means nothing to you, but what it does mean is that Google will now have an entry matching that query. Cool.

One other thing: the weather. Yes, it was cold today. When I woke up, it was -28, with the windchill bringing it down to -38. Lovely. Walked to school in it, though, like a good prairie boy. But good news: it's warmed up substantially through the day, and it's now only -14 (which is warmer than it got all day yesterday, when we officially got to -31). Better news: it's supposed to crack the good side of zero tomorrow! I'll believe it when I see it, but man, that'd be so cool. It's shorts and T-shirt weather, for sure. We'll see.

And that, my friends, is all for this evening. 12 minutes of blogging, a few paragraphs, and still time to finish off the evening with my wife. When you're good, you're good. See you tomorrow.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Great. Just awesome. Here I am, trying to keep this post to a low cynicism value, and what happens? The furnace goes kaput. Oh, did I mention that it's -25 outside? Yeah, thanks a bunch.

Here's the issue--the fargin' pilot light won't stay fargin' lit. Oh, it teases me so. It lights, the heat comes on, and yet, by the time the heat has finished its heating cycle, the light is off again. Argh!

Update: It's now two hours after I first wrote that, and Things have happened. I was just going to let it go and deal with it in the morning, but then I realized that was impractical because (a) it's -25 tonight--no wait, it's dropped to -30, and (b) we don't have enough space heaters to heat both our bedroom and Theo's. So a call was placed to our caretaker, who brought up another good reason to not let it go: the pipes might freeze. So he called the local appliance repair guy who just happened to be awake (it was 9:30 by the time this all happened); he's an older gentleman, and he and his wife usually retire at about 9:00, but tonight they had guests over and were still awake. Here's another thing: this guy drives a propane-fueled van, with emphasis on the pain (his line, not mine), and it usually doesn't start in weather like this. But, of course, tonight it started.

Out he came, our knight in shining armour, and disassembled the main unit, replaced the thermocouple (which has to be the coolest-sounding appliance piece in history), and put it back together again, all without waking Theo, whose bedroom lies on the other side of the wall from the furnace. Not bad. Now it's 10:15, and we're again enjoying the comfort of a nicely-heated home. Ahh.

What have we learned from all this. First, living in a climate like this sucks, but I think I've mentioned that before. Second, as much as life throws situations at you, you're never powerless to solve them, even if you're living in a rented home in a town where you know nobody. There's always someone around to help--in fact, there's usually more than one person.

Anyway. All that to say the night's been quite eventful, which also sums up the day quite well. The nightmare of teething continues around here; terrible day today, even worse than yesterday, which we thought was pretty bad. I feel bad for the poor guy. I can't imagine being in pain all day long and not being able to understand what the heck was going on. Oh sure, we have him on medication, but it's still bad. In fact, I was considering shaving off the smallest amount of Tylenol 3 into his regular Tylenol, but thought better of it (I'm a pretty smart guy, after all).

But even though Theo's day kind of sucked, he's still our little guy, and when he's not in pain, he's the cutest thing going. Today he was watching me shovel the snow out front (got another foot yesterday), and laughing at me through the window. Not sure if he was laughing because I was out there shovelling and he wasn't, but it was funny anyway. He even came toddling around the corner when I got home from school this afternoon, which gave me a flashback to the days when my sister and I used to greet my dad at the door when he came home from work, usually by trying to take him down while he was vulnerable--usually with his back turned. I also got a glimpse of the day when Theo might do that with me. Makes my heart melt, it does.

As alluded to in the above paragraph, I spent some time at school today, working on various homeworkish items. After that, I actually hit the gym for the first time this semester. Although my fitness level isn't what it was at the end of last semester, it doesn't feel like I'm starting over, which is good. Did 20 minutes on the elipticals, along with a weight-training cycle, so I'm sure I'm going to feel that in the morning.

This evening, while Theo and I did the evening bath routine, Steph went off to visit Prairie's art club. A mixed experience, I hear--Steph's a very talented painter, but for some reason, the art club meets in a room where painting is verboten. Not sure what the story is there. Anyway, she had to work in a medium unfamiliar to her, and was unequipped to work to her full liking in the pencil sketch medium, so it was a little disappointing, methinks. Of course, her worst work in an unfamiliar medium is better than my best in my most familiar medium--which is probably hamburger condiments--so there's that. The problem with saying stuff like that, though, is that is doesn't really make anyone feel better. I once had this conversation with the drummer in a band I played in (I told him that his worst day drumming was probably better than my best), and he replied, "Well, it should be. I am the drummer, after all." Good answer.

When artistically-talented people have a bad day, it's just not enough to say, "Sounded/Looked good to me." I know that when I have an off day worship leading, or when something just doesn't quite go the way I like it, I notice, even if nobody else does. And the fact that nobody else noticed doesn't make me feel better about the fact that I noticed. You know? I'm sure it's the same way with visual artists.

There's my epiphany for the evening. You're welcome. And with that stunning piece of writing, I think it's time to hit the sack. I had grand plans to catch up on some 24 tonight (which is why I haven't been writing witty recaps), but alas, the furnace broke. Stupid furnace. Stupid climate. I initially misspelled "stupid," which would have made for a funny unintentional, well, something, had I not corrected it. Guess you had to be there. Anyway, the alarm goes off too early tomorrow morning as well, so it's time to go. Thanks for coming by, and I'll see you tomorrow.

The End of Titles?

It turns out that I can only deliver on two of the three things I promised at the conclusion of Friday's entry--we didn't end up going to the new church because, well, we have a teething baby in the house, and that means routine is disrupted. In fact, things were so bad for him on Sunday morning that he just managed to get back to sleep when we would have had to get ready to leave, and we didn't want a big bear on our hands for the entire service, so we stayed home. Plus, it's honestly a little bit difficult to go to church at all out here, mainly for the same reasons it's tough to forge any new friendships--we're only here for another two-and-a-half months, and after that, we'll probably never see these people again. Seems like a lot of effort.

Cynical? No, not really; just pragmatic. It is difficult to foster new relationships without the boundaries that we have, and it all seems a little bit, well, artificial, I suppose. Ah well, I'm just antisocial.

In other news. We've been checking out another show that we've been wanting to watch for a while now but haven't had a chance to: "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip." Not only is it the show wih the longest name on TV, it's also probably the funniest. And not in a stupid-funny kind of way, but in a really smart, witty kind of way. It's (unmistakably) Aaron Sorkin, and it harkens back to the days when he was doing the writing for "The West Wing" (one of my favourite shows of all time that died an untimely death last season). Unfortunately, this show seems to be going the way of all smart TV shows: down the tank. Silly, when you think about it. What's wrong with us that we can't take a little thinking TV? Does everything really have to be about marrying your cousin (as they allude to in their first episode)? In fact, much of this show is a polemic against the current state of network TV. Worth watching, most definitely.

And hey, if nothing else, it's full of "that guy from that show" so you're bound to recognize someone. And heck, half the cast of The West Wing is on it, too (Bradley Whitford is one of the main characters, which is great because, in my opinion, he was one of the best of a good bunch on WW), but mostly the actors with smallish parts. And Matthew Perry is, as usual, worth watching (except for Friends, which I never watched because, well, everyone was watching it--I'm sure he was good on it, too), and his interplay with Bradley Whitford is priceless. Good writing, good acting, relevant stories--yup, it's doomed.

What else? Still stinkin' cold today. Minus 28 with the windchill. Haven't had a winter like this in 10 years, you know? Just our luck. If it makes us feel any better (it doesn't), the seasonal normal for February hovers right around the freezing mark, and by the end of this month, we should start to see the signs of spring arriving. I'll believe it when I see it, to be honest. I know I've made a lot of hay on this blog about the weather in the past, but I just can't get over it, which is why I still write about it. Cold. Sucky. Yeah, that about does it.

Oh, I realized I hadn't told you about the rest of our weekend yet. Went to Superstore in Red Deer on Saturday, which is always a fun experience. For the first time in, well, a year, we didn't buy a single item of baby food. Although Theo's still on formula, he's slowly weaning himself off it, so we're not going through it very fast (plus we had some stock), and he's totally off the mushed-up baby food of any kind now, and prefers to eat our food. It's really great to watch him eat full meals, and it's a lot easier because he's on our schedule now, too. Sure, it means we have to eat at very regular times throughout the day (breakfast is at 8:00-8:30; lunch from 12:30-1:00; dinner at 5:30), but that's not bad either. I'm happy with routine if it can be established, at least at home.

Our new bedtime bath routine is firmly established, too. In fact, Theo likes his bath so much that he goes to the tub at random times during the day and starts throwing his toys in it in the hope that I'll start filling the tub with water. It's really quite amusing to watch, except when I have to take him away from the tub and explain the concept of time. Not usually very successful, but he loves it when we actually get the bath going.

On Saturday night, one of the guys from school threw a big video gaming party at his place and invited a bunch of us over. Awesome. Any time you get 12 guys together in one room, all of whom have been raised on video games, and add two TV's and two systems, you're bound to get a good time out of it. Although it was a little awkward for me (I only knew about half the people there, while everyone else seemed to know everyone), it was good. Couldn't win at anything for the life of me, but that's alright. Munchies, video games, pop, the smell of too many guys in a confined space; ah, that's the life.

That brings me to now. Today was good; had some time at home with the family, then went to school for a bit to work on some homework. Feels good to get things accomplished, that's for sure. I have a group presentation this Friday, so that's that, I suppose. Things are pretty evenly-spaced this semester; I don't feel like there's going to be any time when I'm hugely stressed (except, of course, crunch time at the end of the semester, which is always crazy no matter what), and I feel like I'm staying well on top of things, which is nice. The only thing that throws a wrench into my plans is having to do a bunch of collateral reading for papers or presentations. It's very time-consuming to read and retain, especially when one is expected to put together a cogent critical review of said material and present it to a class of sharks who are just waiting to jump on you. Okay, we're not that bad, but it's difficult to BS it when you get up to the senior level. In lower division, nobody asks questions; in upper division, everyone's a scholar, and if you don't have good answers, you look stupid. Not that I necessarily mind looking stupid, it's just that in this case, stupid affects my grade.

Submitted the last of my grad paperwork today, so that's looking good. I'm getting my pictures taken tomorrow, which I'm not necessarily looking forward to, as you all know. What bugs me about grad pictures specifically is the campiness of them. First off, since grad is such a serious endeavour, you can't smile. Instead, you must look winsome and perhaps optimistic, and never look directly at the camera. And if you're holding roses or a scroll of paper, it's all the better. Gross. Just get it over with and let's move on.

It also bugs me that I have to pay a fee to graduate, for the "processing of my paperwork", as if that $100 somehow enabled the college to pay for the time of the person doing the processing. I'm sorry, but that person is making way too much money if that's an hourly total. Oh well, the president's got a big family, and big families are expensive to take on vacation, I guess. I think the grad fee probably goes up every time he has another kid.

Okay, are we at the limit for cyncism yet? Probably. That's enough for tonight. By the way, the title of this post alludes to something, so I'll get it out. I'm quickly running out of enough wit to make titles for these posts, so I think I'm going to go with generally untitled posts from here on in, except when I have a flash of brilliance (and perhaps whimsy). Then I'll put a title up. Those are the ones you should read, if you can't read 'em all. I'm not sure why that's important, but I thought I'd mention it.

Thanks for coming by, and I'll see you again tomorrow, but hopefully without the cynical worldview.

As Promised, No Rants...

Several times in the past few days we've found ourselves repeating the new family mantra: "Every day we spend here brings us one day closer to going home." It's also known in its abbreviated form as "Two-and-a-half more months...." Not that we're anxious. I mean, gosh, we just got here--you'd think we'd have a little bit more in the tank. But no, you'd be wrong.

Ah well, you soldier on, I suppose. We're starting to find a new routine here, one that involves Theo not going crazy being confined to the house all day after spending the last month going outside for a walk nearly every day. I think he still feels like he's going to wake up and daddy or mommy will be gone, so I can understand his confusion. Still, a couple of rough nights in a row, and I'm ready to throw all my understanding out the window.

Great night tonight, though. We're establishing the new bedtime routine, which involves daddy giving a bath and feeding him his goodnight bottle. This is a good solution because (a) it gives Theo some solid daddy-time, (b) Steph doesn't like giving baths anyway, and (c) it gives her a chance to have some time to herself, which is always a good idea, especially after a month of solo parenting (plus some great help from parents). Bath time is always a hit, so I feel like I'm doing something productive, too. It's a win-win, really.

What else? I promised a light offering tonight, so I won't get into today's discussion of lesbian feminist theology. Interesting stuff, though. And Google needed another hit for that particular phrase, I think. Nice.

Oh, grad pictures got rescheduled, so I'm on tap for next Tuesday. This time I was smart enough to bring a white collared shirt back with me, so that's covered. I wasn't smart enough to bring my snow pants, though, so I'm only one for two.

Nothing else really startling, or even of note for that matter, occurred today. I'm tired, as usual, and Steph's finally getting over her cold. It's an occupational hazard of parenting that you're exposed to way too many bugs, and Steph's managed to catch something at every conceivable opportunity, which surprises neither of us.

And really, that's all I've got for the evening. Thanks for the patronage this week--I do appreciate seeing the hits on the site meter, so keep it up. And I'll be back here on Monday, regaling you with stories of tomorrow's trip to Superstore, a big video game tournament, and a visit to a new church. Exciting! See you then.

A Great Debate...

Probably the best question to ask on days like this is simply, "Why on earth to people actually choose to live here?" Disgusting day today. Cold; and not just a simple cold, but a faculty-numbing, bone-chilling, cut-through-all-your-layers type of cold that displays the tenacity of a pit bull in making sure you're as miserable as you could possibly be. The damage due to cold would be mitigated if the sun would actually show its face, but alas, even that is too much of a task. Snow that drives at you, wind that makes your eyes water (and subsequently freeze to your cheeks); yup, life in the prairies at its best. Two-and-a-half months to go.

Other than the stupid weather, a pleasant enough day was had by all. I took care of a bunch of school work that beckoned (it tends to do that), and am feeling the euphoric rush of "Getting Something Accomplished." Sat in the campus coffee shop (not the one open to the community, but the one run by students), which has a nice atmosphere and serves bad coffee. But hey, the service at the other coffee shop is surly and rude pretty much all the time, so it's at least got that going for it. I swear, whenever you walk into the Oasis (the community one, as opposed to the Loft, which is the student-run one) you feel like you're committing some grievous crime simply by patronizing their establishment. There's one older lady in particular who is just no fun at all--as much as you try, you can't even get a grunt out of her, let alone the hint of anything but a scowl. Maybe one day I'll bring a kitten in with me. If she doesn't smile then, well, we know there's something wrong. Heck, even thinking about kittens is making me smile. But not her.

Theo was his usual self--a total ham for most of the day, and a total bear when he got too tired. We're still experimenting with his napping requirements; he tends to have one long nap in the morning (usually two hours), but has that awkward thing in the afternoon where he's tired enough to nap, but if he sleeps, he won't go to bed well at night. If we don't let him nap, we have a bear in the mid-afternoon and he falls asleep halfway through his last bottle; if we do let him nap, we have a bear in the evening when he knows it's bedtime but isn't quite tired enough yet. It never gets easier, I guess.

No easy segue here, so I'll just jump right into it: I'm surprised that nobody left a comment about yesterday's rant. Oh well. I certainly do appreciate those of you who visit (so far today the count is 10 hits--not huge, but I'll take it), whether you leave a comment or not.

Since you're all being so accepting of my rants, however, I want to get back to something I just barely touched on yesterday about my feminist theology course. As a refresher, I posed a question about the "maleness" of God actually being in the Bible. That statement probably sounds a bit on the heretical side, so I need to explain it a bit, but from the standpoint of a feminist theologian. Please note that I make no claim as to the veracity of this information--I am simply stating the case of feminist theologians without making any sort of judgement as to whether or not I agree. In fact, it doesn't matter if I agree--all that matters is that it makes me think (and hopefully you as well).

So, what's the argument? Well, back in Exodus, God calls to Moses from the burning bush, right (Exodus 3, if you're following along at home)? When Moses asks, in verse 13, what name God claims, God's response is "I Am Who I Am" (the Tetragrammaton, for those of you scoring at home). This is nothing more than the repeated verb "to be"; it says nothing of God's gender because it is not a pronoun. In fact, the only reason we see God as male is because (a) the writers of the Torah lived in a patriarchal society and automatically assumed maleness, and (b) Moses is quoted to have said, "What is His name." What if Moses had said, "What is her name?" Later, in verse 15, God tells Moses to say, "The Lord, the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, has appeared to me...." Still, there is no word from God as to what gender, if any, he or she claims.

With me so far? Good--I knew you were smart. Okay, here's the next piece. The name God claims in verse 13 is known to us as Yahweh--the sacred name that none were allowed to speak for fear of blaspheming and being struck down. Yahweh (YHWH in the text) is ungendered--it is a name, not an object (Hebrew, like most languages other than English, is inflected, which means that it uses gender in its nouns). However, during the writing of the text, some other name had to be used in place of YHWH. The scribes chose the word, "Adonai," which means Lord. There's a problem here, though. Suddenly, you move from a name to a title, which dehumanizes God in the first place, and is a masculine noun in the second. The masculinity inherent in Adonai is not necessarily implied by YHWH, and the use of that word has further cultured us to seeing God as a male figure.

So now we see the problem, but that's where the agreement ends. Various solutions are proposed, including changing the name of God to "She Who Is" in a radical feminist view. I'm not sure, personally, that any change is necessary, except a change in our perception of God.

A few parting thoughts. God is incomprehensible. We will never understand Him in His fullness (yes, I'm using the masculine pronoun again--I have to use something, though), even when we see Him face-to-face. As Creator, God encompasses both genders (He would have to in order to create both, don't you think?). Simply put, He transcends our way of looking at the world and takes it to a whole new level. When we think of God as male, I think we do a disservice to women because we totally neglect His "female" attributes.

The thing is that the image of God as male has been used as an excuse throughout church history to justify the oppression of women. And that's just not good enough. I think we need to think bigger when it comes to our conceptions of who God is, and understand that no matter what creation order implies (nothing at all, to be honest) or who sinned first (again, doesn't matter), both genders are equally culpable for sin, and both are equally capable of full and complete redemption under the blood of Jesus. It's really not more difficult than that. Any theology that uses God's "maleness" to oppress women is no Bible-based theology at all.

Okay, enough already. Thanks for sticking with me through that. Tomorrow, I'll try to keep things at an even keel (I've subjected you to more than enough reading in the last two days). Thanks for stopping by, and I'll see you soon.

Back Again, Again...

Tonight is one of those nights where I have a lot to say, but I'm not sure where to start. I guess a good place would be to say that I'm back again, after a few days without postings. If you're up on Theo's blog, you'll know that I went home for the weekend to have a birthday celebration and bring the family back here. That is done, I'm happy to report. Yes, it means that the bachelor days are over. But it also means that I get my family back, which far outweighs the lack of diaper changes.

It was, yet again, a whirlwind weekend. Flew in at 11:00 on Friday night, had Theo's party on Saturday, church on Sunday and a date night with my wife (stayed over in a hotel downtown and had a fabulous dinner at Steamworks), Theo's actual birthday on Monday, which involved a trip to the Vancouver Aquarium (pictures on Theo's blog) and a dinner at my parents', and a flight home yesterday.

The party was good. Had a good turnout (roughly 40), and I think everyone had a good time. If not, nobody was rude enough to tell us. We hosted it in the community room at our complex, which is surprisingly well-apportioned and a good venue all around. Air hockey was played, gifts were given, cake was eaten, fun was had. Good times.

On Sunday, Steph and I stayed over at the Wedgewood hotel on Hornby at Robson. What a place. It's one of those "boutique" hotels, which basically means that it's small and it's not a national chain. Great service, though, and really nice rooms. It's tough being in downtown Vancouver, because, unless you're right on the water, your view is singularly unimpressive--mostly just concrete jungle. We were directly across the streets from the law courts, and our ninth floor view looked directly out onto the construction being done on them. But it was also fun being downtown (said by someone who grew up in Ladner and never spent more than 20 minutes downtown at a time). There's the whole hustle-and-bustle aspect which is fun (not necessarily to live in, but to visit). Of course, there are also the dang-nabbed panhandlers. If anyone tries to tell you that Vancouver doesn't have a problem, they're idiots. Steph and I were saying that it's funny how we went to Manhattan and walked around at crazy hours of the night (we even took the Subway at midnight), and we didn't feel nearly as unsafe as we did walking the streets of Vancouver.

It's the unpredictability of it that gets me. For example, we were a little bit early for our dinner reservations on the edge of Gastown, and so we walked over to the edge of the water to look out. Suddenly, some guy starts rambling on over toward us at a rapid pace--we turned and high-tailed it out of there. The next day, we were just driving around, and some squeegie kid comes up and just starts doing our windshield at a stop light. We waved him off like crazy, but he wouldn't leave us alone. I just about ran over his foot when the light turned green because I was just not willing to give him money for something that I didn't want and didn't ask for, and is furthermore a violation of my privacy and trespassing to boot! What makes these guys think that it's their inalienable right to wash my windows and be compensated for it? It's just like spam email--STOP GIVING THEM MONEY AND THEY'LL GO AWAY!!!!!

Yes, I know, I'm coming across awfully harshly tonight. But here's the thing: I have worked hard to support myself and my family my entire life. My parents worked hard and fought through periods of under-employment to support my sister and I and give us everything we needed to get by. Although we occasionally relied on the generousity of others (as Steph and I do now), for the most part we fought for a better tomorrow, as cliche as that sounds. The problem with street people is that there's no need to ever get off the street. Being a street person has become an identity all to itself, a way of life that is something to be proud of. In fact, I'm willing to wager that many of these guys who panhandle at lucrative corners or squeegie car windows make more money than I do (which isn't hard right now), which is exactly why I will not give them any of mine.

Here's the thing--I'm willing to help you if you're willing to help yourself. Yes, I know there are deeper systemic issues at stake here and I'm vastly oversimplifying the case. Or am I? When you give a homeless guy your leftovers and he dumps them in the trash, there's a problem. And I'm not willing to help out with any kind of support (food, money, clothing, whatever) unless there's a demonstrable effort on the part of the other person to change his or her life situation. And I make no apologies for that viewpoint.

Well, that should get me a few comments at least. And I welcome them, even if you disagree. Especially if you disagree.

Back to it. Moving from social issues to, well, boring stuff, I'm really enjoying the discussion we're having in one of this semester's courses about feminist theology. It's really interesting for me as a man to look at the woman's point of view on a lot of things, and this is no exception. I've always accepted the concept of a male God figure easily, because (a) I'm a man, and (b) it's what's in the Bible, right? Well, maybe it's not quite that simple. Okay, it's simple that I'm a man; it's the other one that's not so much.

Uh oh, better not get any farther on that tonight, or else this is going to turn into more of an essay (and I'll get angry comments on the social and theological sides). Suffice it to say that there are interesting arguments put forth by the feminist camp. As much as some of it is a bunch of hooey, all of it is eye-opening. I used to look at feminist theology as some excuse for women with daddy-issues to vent on God, but now I'm changing my mind on that. It's the boon of progress to engage in fervent dialogue, and I'm enjoying doing so immensely. I think we owe it to ourselves as people and as Christians to frequently re-examine what we hold dear to make sure that it can stand the test, both objectively for the outside world, and subjectively for our own personal faith journey. An untested faith is no faith at all, as far as I'm concerned (and I have some biblical basis for that, which I'll expound on when I'm not too tired to look up the actual verses).

Anyway. I think I've done just about enough damage for one night. As you can probably guess, my level of fatigue is high, after a crazy weekend and having to get up too early this morning for a day of class. Thus, I am going to hit the sack. Thanks kindly for stopping by; I hope you've enjoyed what I've said (even if you don't agree), and that you're willing to leave me a comment on it. See you again tomorrow.